Page:Bohemian poems, ancient and modern (Lyra czecho-slovanska).djvu/70

‘When long days, weeks, months succeeding
came and went without relief.
‘Long the time and slow its passage,
while in all unworthy toil
‘I, a fetter’d slave, was serving
as a tiller of the soil.
‘But one day the Khan of Kasan;
’twas a thing of strange surprize;
‘Summon’d me before his presence;
dare I, dare I trust mine eyes?
‘Wratislaw, my youngest brother,
at his side I do descry,
‘Pale and sadly travel-wasted,
e’en as one whose death is nigh.
‘Ere surprise’s cry hath left me,
with a scornful smile doth speak
‘Kasan’s Khan—“My slave, look hither!
see this wasted child and weak!
‘He, his little limbs scarce dragging;
feeble are his limbs and frame;
‘He, his breath to draw scarce able,
doth himself thy brother name.
‘Come he is to seek thy freedom,
come he is with purpose brave,
‘Come for thee himself to offer,
as a captive and a slave.
‘Say if the exchange doth please thee?
wilt the proffer’d freedom have?
‘I will own it; I was speechless,
still by wonderment opprest;